Fall Back In Love Eventually
by isawrightless
Summary: and then it's all about second kisses.


The worst thing about putting your feelings and wants into words is that words are never enough. Sometimes they mean more than anything else in the world, sometimes they make your heart beat faster, sometimes they make you want to run. In the end, however, words are just words. When uttered, they linger in the air and wait for a response. Most of the time they get wrapped in this thin line, tangling themselves until they no longer have meaning.

That's what keeps Altair from talking, making him watch quietly as Malik moves the books out of the shelf, placing them on top of the counter. One by one, cleaning the dust off with a rag, and Altair isn't quite sure of what he's supposed to do with himself. The wound on his back stings every time he moves, but he can't bring himself to complain. Malik would hear him and the man treated the wound yesterday with all the patience and care he could muster, all the while reminding Altair to be more careful with his life. Then there was a kiss and Altair can't remember who kissed whom first, but it happened, and he can still feel it, lips still sore from the bite Malik gave him.

So Altair observes, studies Malik's movements, tries to look for answers whenever the man speaks to him, but it's useless. He acts as if nothing has happened, and that little fact, one that is supposed to be good, drives Altair crazy. He shouldn't want Malik to talk about it, but he does, and if he were any better with words then he'd bring the subject up himself.

"Altair!" Malik shouts, his voice taking the assassin out of his haze. "I am sure staring at the wall is entertaining, but perhaps you should make yourself useful and help me."

Altair rolls his eyes, wonders why that man is so difficult before realizing he doesn't have the right to complain about that. He gets up, winces when the wound on his back protests the sudden movement, and walks up to Malik.

"What do you need me for?" he asks, afraid of looking into Malik's eyes and have his wishes out of his mouth in mere seconds.

"Just help me with the books," is Malik's response.

Altair nods and starts placing the books back on the shelf, stealing glances at Malik from the corner of his eye, coming up with ten thousand topics to talk about in his head, but leaving them there and choosing silence instead.

What is there to say?

Altair runs when told not to, Malik can't ask him to stay.

But when the pile of books on the counter is reduced to a couple, Malik finally gives in, having noticed the tension and the way his friend tries to keep a distance between them.

"What's on your head, brother?"

With a shrug, Altair rearranges a book that didn't need to be rearranged and says, "nothing is on my head."

Malik can't help the small chuckle. "That much I know, yes. But you seem troubled."

"I'm fine."

"That would be a first."

"I just wonder what…" Altair knows how to finish that sentence, knows every word, but his own voice fails him.

"What?"

This could destroy them, Altair thinks. One wrong step and that's it. "Nothing."

Malik sighs, turns his back to the assassin and focuses on the unfinished map he had been working on before cleaning the books. "When will you stop behaving like a child?" Malik asks. "If you have something to say then say it."

Altair opens and closes his mouth, trepidation forming in his gut. Weak in the knees, he tries to brush off the feeling. This is ridiculous! Yet he finds himself unsure if he should tell the truth or simply come up with a lie.

One quick glance at Malik tells him that the man is running out of patience. One quick glance at Malik's mouth and Altair considers attacking, but the thought is put aside when the possibilty of _that _going wrong and ruining what took so much time to heal is brought up in his mind.

Altair takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I wonder what would happen if I kissed you. Like…Like I did yesterday."

Silence fills the room for a moment. Altair thinks about killing himself as the man next to him goes still, looking down on that damn map, and they edge on awkward and uncomfortable until Malik says, "you would have to kiss me to find out." And he says it as if it's the most obvious answer available.

The surprise on Altair's face soon gives room to panic. This is it, they've kissed before, only it happened out of nowhere and now there's this sort of expectation and he could mess this up to the point where nothing will ever be all right again.

Before his own mind drives him to insanity, Altair grabs Malik's robes and spins him around. Their eyes meet and there's an ocean of doubts, all the things they can't understand, the fear and the certainty. Then Malik feels Altair's lips upon his and he opens his mouth to let the assassin in, moaning when it's too much and somehow not enough.

Altair's kisses are raw, bruising. He kisses the same way he hunts and Malik can't get enough, can't stop arching into him and he's trapped between the wall and the assassin and he lifts his hand to pull down Altair's hood because he needs to touch his face, needs to run his hand through his hair and there's a whimper when Altair grinds against him and he can feel his cheeks burning, knows this is getting out of hand and he doesn't care.

They break apart, Altair rests his forehead against Malik's, innocent gesture that leaves them both grounded. Altair smiles and for a minute Malik doesn't know what to do and then he smiles back and maybe everything is going to be just fine.


End file.
